How Does William Afton Die Novels & Stories

I always thought my husband, Ryder, was forced to marry me. For six months, he wouldn't touch me. I tried everything. I wore my sexiest lingerie. I guided his hands over my burning skin. I could feel how hard he was, completely out of control. But at the last second, he'd always push me away, gasping. He'd finish me with his fingers instead. My hope died. I decided to leave him. I was ready to accept a top dog trainer position in Europe. The night before I planned to hand him the divorce papers, I heard voices from his study. Ryder, talking to his best friends. "Ryder, you're dying for her, man. So why won't you touch her? Another man's going to snatch her up!" "But she's so fragile..." Ryder's deep voice was filled with pain. "You know... I'm a monster. If she sees what I really am... it will terrify her." His voice dropped to a raw whisper. "If she really needs... comfort... from another man... I can take it. As long as she comes home to me in the end." His friend growled. "Stop! Then maybe stop posting on that encrypted dark web forum, asking for help!" Monster? What did that mean? Late that night, I used his computer. I found a hidden forum called "The Den." A pinned post at the top. Thousands of replies. User ID: Midnight_Howler. One sentence. Dripping with desperation and frantic obsession: "I finally married the girl I've loved for years, but I'm terrified to touch her. How can I survive my rut without hurting her, without her discovering my secret?"

My husband, Chandler Goodwin, claims that he doesn't understand what the phrases "silent treatment" or "giving the cold shoulder" mean. Yet, in the three years we have been married, he has never once spoken to me sweetly. The first time we have a falling out, I remain proud and dignified. We end up ignoring each other for seven days straight. The seventh time we have a cold standoff, I start to panic a little. However, despite trying all sorts of methods, he doesn't back down. The 11th time it happens, I have already learned to work through my emotions myself. Chandler doesn't even need to say anything before I take the initiative to apologize first. I simply think that he's just a naturally indifferent person, that nobody can warm his stone-cold heart. Then, on the third year of our marriage, I accidentally ruin his dress shirt while ironing it. Chandler doesn't say a word, but that very night, he packs his things and moves into a hotel. On the third day of being blocked, I head to his company with a handwritten apology. While passing by his office, I spot him leaning over to shoot his angry assistant a doting smile. "I'm sorry for raising my voice at you just now and upsetting you. It's been 57 minutes since you started ignoring me. Please stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?" I freeze on the spot, the apology letter in my hand practically burning my fingers. As it turns out, it's not that he doesn't know what the silent treatment means—it's just that I've never been the person he wants to coax.

My boyfriend Julian is a chess grandmaster, a genius. At sixteen, he became the youngest grandmaster in North American history. I gave him ten years of my life, but a ring was never on the table. But when he reached the pinnacle of his career and won the Grand Slam, he still refused to break the pact he'd made with his family about his career. "According to my plan, I'm not considering marriage or any other form of long-term commitment until all my goals are achieved." I didn't argue with him. I quietly packed his luggage for the World Championship and wished him the best. He had no idea that at the very moment he was lifting the championship trophy with the world watching, I was dragging my failing body to sign my own name on a euthanasia consent form.

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

I spent a year starving for a man who wouldn't touch me. Then his father and brother decided to feast. Rob called me a slut when I begged him to fuck me. Made me feel worthless for craving his hands on my body. Then he let another woman suck his cock right in front of me—and told me she did it better. I should have left. But I followed him to his family's private island in Italy instead. That's where I met them. Victor Marchetti. Rob's father. Silver hair, ice-blue eyes, and a body built for sin. He looked at me like he wanted to devour me whole. When his hand touched the small of my back, I felt it between my thighs. Dante. The older brother. Dark, dangerous, and built like he could break me apart with his bare hands. One look from those black eyes and I was wet. One word from that deep voice and I was ready to drop to my knees. I tried to resist. Tried to remember I had a boyfriend sleeping down the hall. But they hunted me. Cornered me. Made me admit what my body had been screaming for. When they finally took me—both of them, at the same time, claiming every hole, every sound, every desperate whimper—I understood what I'd been missing. Victor's hand around my throat while Dante buried himself so deep I couldn't breathe. Two men who didn't just want me. They needed me. Owned me. Ruined me for anyone else. Rob made me beg for scraps. His father and brother made me scream their names.

The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night. The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face. When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on." It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it. Later, I died. But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.

They’re off-limits, forbidden, and that’s what makes them irresistible. She’s the goddaughter who’s been touching herself to his name since she was old enough to know what wanting meant, and now she’s come home to collect. She’s the neglected wife whose stepsons look at her like they want to devour her, maybe it’s time she let them. She’s the fiancée whose future husband sold her to his brother to cover his debts and she’s discovering her new owner knows exactly how to make her beg. Daddy’s best friends. Stepfathers. Bosses. Professors. Brothers-in-law. Stepbrothers. Father-in-laws. Best friends’ dads. Every man she was told to stay away from. This collection contains: age-gap, step-family, power exchange, revenge, MFM, FFM, obsession, and possession. You’ve been warned, but you’ll read it anyway.

Jessica didn't know what it felt like to the protection of three powerful werewolves; she never believed they really existed until she met Ethan, Jacob and Jordan. Especially Ethan who isn't a hybrid , he's the strongest of them all. Their rival pack will do anything to put Ethan out of power, to take everything he has for themselves. Once Jessica is theirs, how will they be able to protect her from something so dangerous?

"I, Liam Moreno, reject you, Chloe Daniel, as my mate and the future Luna of the MayHill pack!” He growled, breaking me to pieces. I shattered at the sound of his cold voice. My weak wolf howled in terrible pain, pain that could kill, but I wouldn't stay weak. I'll become strong and step on those who hurt me… ********** “Hello Chloe!” It was Jax calling me now. The hot, ruthless Alpha of the Moondale pack had won my heart. I would never return to Liam Moreno because he is now my sworn enemy. I exist to kill the Alpha who rejected me. will Chloe gives Alpha Liam a second chance or Stick to Alpha Jax? find out.

**Sequel to The Billion Dollar Love Triangle. Strongly suggest that is read first!** Just when Scarlett Watson thinks she's finally got her life together, she finds out she's pregnant and she doesn't know if the baby is Grayson Wrenford's or Lee Windsor's. Thinking she'll simply be with whichever man fathered her child, Scarlett is thrown for a loop when the paternity only makes things more complicated. Being deeply in love with both men and still having to pick one, the three of them navigate the ups and downs of pregnancy, their messy families, and discovering their true selves, all before Scarlett gives birth. When the time comes, will Scarlett actually be able to decide who she wants to be with, will she lose them both, or will someone else win her heart?